CHRISTMAS BOOK SIGNING

Merry Christmas!  Do  you realize there are only 49 days until Christmas? Time seems to go faster than it used to.  You can get an early start on shopping this Thursday, November the 7th..

BOOK SIGNING--BOOK WAREHOUSE-ACROSS FROM TANGER OUTLET, MYRTLE BEACH
TIME: 1:00 TO 5:00

THREE CHILDREN'S AUTHORS:

DARLENE EICHLER/NAN TURNER--WHERE'S THE KITTY AND ALL HER OTHER BOOKS.

PAT DAVID--HUGS, INC.

GOFFINET MCLAREN- SULLIEKITTY WILL BE GIVING LESSONS ON DRAWING CATS AND CHRISTMAS ITEMS.

BETTY WYLES-ILLUSTRATOR OF WHERE'S THE

REFRESHMENTS, DOOR PRIZES AND LOTS OF FUN!

 

 

A TIME OF REFLECTION

Do you find yourself looking back into the past more than ever? It seems that everywhere we turn there are stories of tragedies--those caused by sick persons, those caused by nature and those occurring as  a natural part of living.  We yearn for a time, perhaps as children, when a problem was no bigger than did Susie like me better than Mary.  Our parents shielded us from those things that would cause nightmares and needless concern, most of the time.  But as we are farther removed form those disturbances the more our minds play tricks on us.  We hear our friends or ourselves saying,  "those were the good old days." Yes, in so many ways they were to us as children.  But if we took the time to research the years of our childhood we might be surprised how our memories play tricks on us

I don't want to write sad things. My goal is to point out that our lives are good in so many ways-the past is gone forever and tomorrow is not here and today is all we have.

Let's take a quick trip back to the 40s, 50s, and 60s.  We won't stay long because today is passing and we have so many wonderful things to see and do.

Early 1940s--the US economy was recovering from The Great Depression slowly at a snail's pace in some parts of the country.  Hitler had invaded one European country after another.  The rest of the world began to worry, especially the United States, who had been touting themselves as "isolationists." The attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941 and our country was at war.  As children some had fathers who joined the war effort, rationing of some basic things brought about a change in living conditions.  We learned to do without sweets except on rare occasions. Even the children were drawn into the war effort by collecting such things as tin foil, milkweed pods and newspapers.

Medical care was minimal.  Penicillin was in it's infancy and we did not see general use until  after World War II.   A stroke was usually fatal or extremely debilitating: the same with heart attacks. There were no definitive tests for cancer-no ultrasounds or MRIS.

The production of cars and appliances were put on hold until World War II was over. Those first cars off the production line were utilitarian and not made for luxury.

1950s--our world had changed as we had known it.  Many mothers went to work.  The term "latch key children" came about and the security of the family was compromised. 
They came home to watch the black and white television set found only in the living room.  I believe the fuzziness of a  parent's responsibility created some of the problems in the public schools that have grown worse today.

Polio reared its ugly head in the early fifties.  I lived in the area of one of the worst epidemics.  Polio vaccine was considered a miracle When its discovery was announced in April of 1955.

Many of our young men and women were involved in a little known country's battle with their communist counterpart--South Korea was invaded by North Korea. It was never declared a war but our causalities in the military were just as dead  no matter the political
legalese.

The late 50s gave us a gyrating, handsome young man who turned the music industry up side down. Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll.

1960s-brought Viet Nam, the sexual revolution and illegal drug use, the Beatles and 
computers.  Our life had changed forever. But we lived without cell phones!

There were some "good ole days" but many that were filled with the ups and downs of living on this earth. Its all about how we decide to deal with them
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  Life is good everyday....if we'll just look

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THE BRAVEST PERSON I EVER KNEW

As I sat down to write a tribute to my friend, Vera, the thought came to me that this is happening too often of late (several of my dearest friends have passed away recently) but then I remember how old I am. It doesn't seem possible that I have lived so many years. I don't feel old in my mind. But it's true I have lived many places, made many acquaintances, Christmas card friends, and a few friends who have made impressions in my heart. Vera was that kind of friend. She was a "no fluff' friend---no pretense, no frills, only honesty, even if it hurt a little ! She had spunk, a "do it and get it over " philosophy. I never saw her in action in the classroom but I would guess the students gave her their respect and love. She would never put herself on a pedestal above them. I'm certain they felt her respect as they looked into her eyes

In the years before her illness, Vera amazed me with her energy and enthusiasm for life. I envied her swimming ability. She had a zest for living life to the fullest even in the retirement years. Perhaps Brooks had something to do with her young way of thinking.

 In the years of her illness, Vera, amazed me with her energy and enthusiasm for life. The zest for living was still there. Oh, there were probably some days she prayed for Our Lord to take her home but she knew He would in His own time. Because of the results of her illness she could not be as energetic but the spirit remained. How could I omit her wonderful sense of humor? And her love for the South Carolina Gamecocks? The day she passed away I was in a store looking for a sock monkey Gamecock!
 What a wonderful surprise when the doors of the parish hall opened one evening just as a Daughters of the King meeting was beginning and in came Vera pushed in a wheelchair by Helen. We thanked God for His goodness and mercy.

 I could go on and on about Vera Ann Young Eastridge but those of you who knew her well, Ken and her children and grandchildren, her friends, the Daughters of the King, her Church family--she was Vera, true to herself, her family and faithful to her God.

 And the bravest person I ever knew.

 Rests in peace my friend.


Darlene Eichler, a friend and sister-in-Christ.

 September 4, 2013                                                                                                                                 
                                             

THOUGHTS OF DROPPING OUT OF THE HIGH TECH WORLD

"Oh, Nana, you've gone high tech!" This said by a grandchild after I spent thirty minutes trying to type in those tiny letters on this device called a "smart phone." That title intimidated me from the beginning.  Why couldn't Apple have named it, "I'll Be Kind to-- fill in the blank with an age category or computer literacy score? Example: I'll BE Kind (to)Little old Ladies with a Computer Literacy score of +1(she can turn on the computer). Okay, let's move on from the phone(really it's a computer in disguise) to the desk top as opposed to the laptop. I've been asked why don't I just have a laptop?  I tell them it's very simple...after raising four children, including a set of twins, I don't want anything that might have to sit on my lap!(Just kidding great-grand's)

This desk top was born into the highest tech family.  I'm sure it could trace it's lineage way back into the fifties at least. It's ancestors go back to adding machine days.  That's just an aside.  What is important now is they have developed on the fast tract, long passing the liberal arts majors and those who still cannot set their digital watches.

Did you ever say to your children, "Don't you give me any back talk. You're the child and I'm the adult(meaning I'm smarter than you are)."  Well, you can't say that to a computer.  They are smarter and if you haven't realized that, you don't spend a lot of time around one. Now this desktop is a beauty--it is all in one piece--no ugly tower to take up room.  No, this has the CPU (shocked that I can use that term?) built into the monitor, therefore it requires less room. Everything is good so far--let's keep going.

I think there is something evil inside that lies dormant for days, even weeks, sometimes months, and then it strikes with a vengeance. Passwords suddenly become obsolete, whole posts disappear, along with chapters of books, never to be recovered. No amount of pleading, or crying will bring them back.

And then there are the strange sounds which emanate with no warning.
It sounds as if someone is frying chicken inside it's workings.  I figure that some day it will blow up.  I'm uncertain at the present time if I want to see the carnage.  Perhaps a good purging would help!

I suppose I know more than I think I know but it is never enough. I won't give up because my parents' voices ring in my years.  "Never give up."  But they never had to deal with a computer! 

Darlene Eichler--always open for a computer lesson.

Thank you for taking time to read this post.  Your comments are welcomed.

THE KITTEN CAPER

Some people are just naturally mean. They have no redeeming qualities. Not so you say...the worst criminal in the world has at least one positive quality.  Perhaps, if you put him under a microscope and studied him for days, you might find something positive to say, "oh, he has the richest red blood cells." But we are not talking physical traits but living...everyday living and interacting with others... the second most important commandment--love your neighbor as yourself.

Now I don't mean to get preachy but this Kitten Caper started with a mean man capturing a mother cat and calling the authorities.( This man is known to go to church every time the doors are open.)  At times he has left the cages sitting out in the rain and cold hours before they were picked up by animal control He has to know that some are people's pet who live in his neighborhood. but he has no feeling for these animals

I was called by a friend who lives across the street from the neighbor whose garage became the safe haven for the kittens.  The garage door had been left open giving the mother cat easy access. The young woman heard a faint meowing and hurried with a flashlight to find what she suspected.  Yes, there were five tiny kittens with their eyes not open. She is an avid animal lover and immediately the seriousness of the situation hit her. The mother cat must be found. She looked all through the neighborhood and finally was told by one person that she was almost certain she saw the animal control people pick her up.

She was in a panic.  Who had time to feed these five kitten?  The animal shelters couldn't take them.  They didn't have enough staff to feed five less-than- a -week-old kittens.  The Shelter in North Myrtle Beach did send out an email seeking volunteers to feed them.  No luck..

I'm a soft touch for kittens and I knew I must try to help. I didn't have anything that could be used for feeding so I made a trip to Petco. They saved the day with special milk and bottles and nipples just for that purpose.

When I arrived my friend was upset thinking one of the kittens had died. The others were crawling over this tiny, still one.  I quickly retrieved it and began to  try to rub some life into the tiny creature. A few times he took a deep breath and raised his head with great effort.  I knew he was not fully developed and it would be a blessing when he took his last breath  But it is natural to hope life will continue.

In a short time the young lady from across the street returned with good news.  Her sister who lives in North Carolina would take the kittens!  She prepared the little meowing balls of fur for the trip.(  The lady in the pet store said that keeping them warm was important).  She made the little weak kitten a bed in a shoe box

I was thinking how I wish we had a video of the afternoon activities to show the mean man next door. Although, I doubt that it would have touched his cold heart.

On the third day I could wait no longer.  I called to check on the five kittens.  The little one died that first day after  arriving at the kind sister's home. The others are doing well and their eyes are open.  It takes forty-five minutes to feed them and  they eat every two hours. Such a sweet, patient young woman!  You are an angel!
Darlene Eichler, Cat lover and author of "Where's the Kitty?"

Feel free to write your stories of pet rescues.

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BEING IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME

As some of you know teaching memoir writing is one of my passions in life.  Everywhere I go I see a potential for incorporating a new idea into my class. Sometimes it is just a new twist on an old idea. Just a few weeks ago I was in Southport, North Carolina n a wonderful gift  shop.  I started browsing among some books written by local authors.  Soon a lady walked over and introduced herself as a writer. One of her books piqued my interest after she told me it was a memoir.  She said that she had fourteen friends from childhood who kept in touch and had reunions over about fifty years. Eleven out of the fourteen contributed something to her memoir.  Here was another way to construct one's memoir.

 I was in the right place at the right time.

This past week-end we went to Bedford, Virginia for a family celebration.  I'm a long distance member of the Bedford Museum and have wanted to tour it for a long time. The Director was not there that morning but several nice staff members guided us to the special displays. After we finished the self guided tour we went to the gift shop.  The two women who had seemed to be going at the same pace as we were had arrived a few seconds ahead of us. The attendant began showing me books she thought I might be of interest to me.  One was a beautiful book of paintings done along with a memoir. Another aid for my teaching!

 The right place at the right time!

Then she said, "this lady did the book." It was one of the ladies we seemed to be following. We began to talk about writing in general and her book in particular.  I bought a copy and she bought one of Trunk Tales.  Both books are set in Bedford County.

 It was the right place at the right time.

On Saturday morning we headed to the family cemetery after stopping for some flowers. As we arrived and parked behind the church, a man came out the back door. He was cordial and walked over to ask if he could help.  We told him we were visiting and I was reminiscing about spending my summers in that area and attending the Church beginning as an infant. Soon it became known that he is the pastor of the Church. One thing led to another and he realized that he knew my sister and brother-in-law who run a bed and breakfast in town. He has two young grandchildren.  He was delighted to get a signed "Where's the Kitty" book?

 Another right place at the right time!

It seems to happen more often now.  Could it have anything to do with being a senior citizen?  It's possible.

MY HOMEPLACE-THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME.

REUNION-SECOND GO ROUND

(DO YOU EVER HAVE WHOLE ARTICLES DISAPPEAR? THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED TO MINE  AND I WON'T WRITE IT JUST THE SAME.)

    It was going to be an exciting  day tomorrow.  The big reunion of all the classes who graduated in the 50s would be coming together--over 300 nervous souls (at least that is how I felt). I had vacillated for weeks as to whether I wanted to come and have people not recognize me. Then I thought a majority of us would be in the same boat. Yes, I will.  No. I won't. This kept up until the week before.  It was then that I realized at 75 years old you were pretty much what you would look like until that "big trip." I said, "what the heck? I'm going!

The preparation for this trip began weeks, even months before.  I used special moisturizers and creams on my face and skin. A few persons noticed the difference.....it must be working.  What to wear? I bought one outfit..it was okay but I found another I liked better.  I made the mistake of going to one of my favorite stores a few days before the reunion.. another outfit.  I wondered if the men were obsessing over their wardrobes.  I doubt it.

The day of departure arrived and we were on our way.  I wasn't all that upbeat about this reunion when I began to think about who might be there.....two old boy friends and one ex husband.  The boyfriends I could handle but I wasn't sure about the former husband. The day before we left I received a phone call from one of the men on the reunion committee asking if I would like to attend a breakfast on the morning of the reunion.  I was pleased to be asked and said,yes, I would be happy to attend.  Ah, another outfit but I had brought the three new ones.

Saturday morning came and I was up early, nervously getting ready to go to Shoney's just across the street from the hotel.  As I entered the restaurant, I looked around but didn't see anyone I knew.  The hostess pointed me to the back room. At first glance I did see the person who had asked me and then the faces started to come into view and they looked familiar but where were the names?  I was drawing a blank. Then I saw the blank looks on their faces and I knew I should introduce myself.  I did to the man on the committee.... a smile crossed his face and then came the hug. Another man stood up, a special friend, he reached out and shook my hand and introduced himself.  Tears stung my eyes .  I had changed more than I realized.  Finally when everyone was certain of their classmates identity we had a great time playing catch up.

I went to the hall where the reunion was being held about two hours early to set up my books for a signing.  My table was placed so I had a good view of the door..   I was tied to the book display and I had lots of time to people watch.  For an author, that is a profitable pass time. It wasn't long before old friends began to talk of memories and past reunions.  Others came along and bought books, enough that I was able to give a nice amount to the scholarship fund.  All in all it turned out to be a wonderful reunion and I left with this thought--so many of my classmates had passed away and we all had changed in looks on the outside but we were still that special generation on the inside. All of us wished that those who had left this world could have stayed a little longer. Reunions are bittersweet when you have grown old. 

BIRTHDAYS

Happy Birthday to you!  Happy 75th birthday to you! Some friends and family were brave enough to sing their greetings. Others sent cards--funny ones, serious ones, e-cards, all appreciated more than I can say.  When one stops and thinks about the times and effort it takes to shop for a card and prepare it for mailing one knows they have a true friend. 

Birthdays come in many different sizes and meanings.  When young children start understanding "how old are you?" they become interested in the total number of years and what they can mean.  For example: five years might mean going to kindergarten and four to preschool.  Down through the ages twelve years old has meant the "age of reasoning." Remember the story of Jesus going to the temple, standing up and reading to the priests and elders.  The majority of young girls in this country dream about that "Sweet Sixteen Birthday Party." Although the fashions, and social behavior are different the excitement of being sixteen and almost an adult remains timeless.  Then comes eighteen....legally an adult...eligible for military service, legal to apply for a marriage license and may cast a vote in all levels of government.  If I had to choose the birthday that requires  the most responsibility, it would be the eighteenth.  As the years go by we reach those special landmark birthdays.  You know the ones with the zeros after, let's say following thirty-nine--like 40,50,60 etc. Have you experienced giving someone a surprise 50th birthday party and they got angry because hey didn't want anyone to know they were 50? My quick response was, "I think your bald spot gave it away ." (Not a nice thing for me to say but let's get real...most of us show our age in one way or another). I'm thankful for every year.

BIRTHDAY CAKES--THAT CAN BRING ON SOME STORIES  Do you remember as a child how excited you got over a birthday cake and with good reason. Your mother or the baker in the family covered it with colored icing or at the least it had colored candles and decorations.  In your eyes it was the greatest birthday cake you had ever seen. Have you seen some of the creations today?  I suppose if I were a young mother today I would have to take a cake decorating course. Now I'm not knocking those fantastic creations, just remembering how we used to do it.
Here is my cake at my 75th birthday celebration.  It looks familiar, oh, yes, the cover of my latest book, "Where's The Kitty."

This piece of delicious ART was created by CAKES BY THE SEA--THEY CAN BE FOUND ON FACEBOOK.

Are you a birthday Scrooge?  Have you ever said, " do not do anything for my birthday this year.  It's just another day?" Or , "don't try to surprise me.  I will embarrass you." I knew a teenager once who was given a surprise birthday party by the youth group in his church.  When everyone shouted "surprise" when he entered the room, he turned around and went to his room.  We had the party without the guest of honor!

So my advise to you--when God gives you another year, be happy with all the well wishes and if you don't suspect there are plans just say," Where is my surprise party this year?" I have a feeling some plans will be made very quickly.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVERYONE!!!!!!!!

CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH PEANUT BUTTER FILLNG!

 

 

 

THE END! 

 

COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

 

Class Reunions

The first copy of this post "disappeared" from this blog. Strange but not unusual for me!  So here it is again.

Have you been to a class reunion lately? Have you refused to go to a class reunion lately? Some  people have distinct views about going or not going....The majority of the alumni love it and count the days until another rolls around.

I just attended an all fifties reunion in Virginia.  All the classes from the 50s were asked to the "Nifty Fifties" reunion.  It was well attended as most reunions go.  A question has begged for an answer:  Why do the ones who never left the area  not attend the reunions? Wouldn't you think  they would be there with bells on?  Of course the  committees who make the plans and do the work are mostly local.  They are a faithful and dedicated group and deserve all the accolades we can give them.

It has been seventeen years since I was able to attend one.  That is a long time when one  is classed in the "senior citizen" grouping.  I was determined to go this time if had to be pushed in a wheelchair. (I wasn't far from that as Mr. Parkinson reared his ugly head on Thursday evening.) I did not sleep one minute that I was aware of.  Now you ladies know what the lack of sleep does to a woman's eyes and face in general.  Forget that I had been using this expensive renewal cream to make me look younger.  I had been told that it was working and I was pleased.  But a sleepless night took care of that.  As the day drew closer I began to wonder if I had made a good decision to push myself to the limit in order to attend this special reunion.

I had another reason that compelled me forward...I would take my latest book...a children's book and donate half of the profits to he scholarship fund.  There was not a line of people clamoring to buy that book .  It seems that every one's grand kids were too old!  Weren't there young greats?  But I made it up in  my other books and was able to donate a nice amount to the fund.

And in closing I would like to give a one sentence observation of class reunions.  Go with an open mind, expecting to have a great time but don't be crushed if that special high school boy friend doesn't recognize you!

Darlene Bays Eichler
Dublin High School Class of 1956

















































Readers, I found a paper copppy of this post tht went missing.  So now w have two posts about the class reunoesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssin

 

LIVING WITH PARKINSON'S

I admit I live with two men!  No there is no "other man." There is no ménage a trios'  or practice of bigamy.. The other man is not truly a human being but a disease given the name Parkinson's Disease for the  researcher who identified it--James Parkinson.  I call the progressive neurological condition Mr. Parkinson to portray him as an enemy and bad guest.  He was never invited, never welcomed because of his intrusive nature. He is overbearing, mean spirited, unfeeling, a thief, a con man a man of cunning ways..  At times my means of fending him off seem to work, at other times they don't.  I never know when to expect one of his attacks. He has the tactics of a smart general...always attacking when I least expect .  He wants me to surrender but I would never dream of it.

Let's go back a few years when this uninvited guest came into my life. Of all the diseases out there, I never thought I would contract Parkinson's.  It was way down the scale of possibilities.  Cancer had already reared its devious head and with prayer, good doctors and a spirit of determination it was overcome.  My mother and her sister were not so fortunate

I have entered the twilight years of my life and I want to do my part in making it the best time possible.  As a librarian I am a planner, not just for daily activities but for the strong forces in life.  For me that happens to be Parkinson's Disease.  My plan is to learn all I can, be in a Parkinson's support  group  and always look up [hard when you have Parkinson's}.  I'm  realizing everyday that the busier I stay the better I'm able to handle the disease.   If I live long enough I know I won't be able to be as active as I am now..  I have many interests that stimulate the mind .... I pray I'll never stop learning. I would like to teach as long as possible.

This was not meant to be a negative post.  I would like for readers who have degenerative diseases to know that attitude is a large part of the battle. Join a support group.  You will be glad you did. And first and foremost stay interested in the world around you. You have many memoirs to write!


Comments are encouraged.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        
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Little Green Men and Blood

Ah, the innocence of youth!  Our six year old recently posed a very interesting and insightful question -- "Mommy, do aliens have green blood???"  We proceeded to discuss this inquiry from a scientific point of view.  Kindergarten has changed quite a bit since Dad and I were in school, and our little scholar already knows that mammal blood is "blue inside, but red outside."  Knowing that our blue veins and oxygen-exposed red blood both contribute to our coloring as humans, Mr. Scientist hypothesized that this must mean that green "alien" skin must receive its coloring from their green blood.

This was the end of our short discussion on the color of blood we may someday find to flow in our yet-to-be-discovered alien "brothers" as it was time to ride bicycles and giggle and eat popsicles again as all little boys should this time of year.  Not long after, however, we found ourselves conversing with our elderly neighbor regarding her grandchildren.  Our dear neighbor is blessed to be a great-grandmother already, so her grandchildren are not much younger than my husband and me.  Neighbor "Grandma" as dubbed by our children was discussing how she questions the friends of her grandchildren as to whether they are "bathed in the blood or just in the water."  Blood seemed to be the "hot topic" for our back porch this week!

Being raised in the church, I knew exactly what she meant.  My dear husband had an idea, but wasn't sure.  The children were not around, so I was not met with any of their usual questions after parting from our across-the-fence meeting.  The "out of fashion" nature of our neighbor's comment was then followed with her second statement excusing her old ways, but justifying her right to feel as she does about her faith and religion.

As a child of the Methodist church, a teen of rebellion, and a now mother of two young sons, I feel that blood is a recurring theme in life.  We all are familiar with the blood of Christ and the powers held within.  The service of communion and the wine or juice you imbibe as symbolic blood.  This blood is "good" blood, but I feel that more "bad" blood is in our faces more and more every day.

Had I been born in an earlier time, I feel strongly that I would have been the early bird collecting my newspaper to read over coffee.  Today, as do many, I read the news during my weekdays on the internet.  Unfortunately, what do I read about the most???  Blood.  Not green blood, not Christ's blood, but the blood being shed by too many innocents.  Young children struck down before their life even began.  Teens killing other teens.  Family members killing their own kin.  Civil uprisings in distant lands with death tolls too high for me to even comprehend.

I restrict my news digesting to my day hours whilst sitting in front of two monitors for one major reason -- blood.  There are evenings after I've read the bad news of the day when I feel that I cannot shake the negative emotions that are inevitably stirred by the headlines that always make their way to the top.  I have discussed my news-induced depression with a dear friend, and his theory is that it's not the world that's changed, but the "size" of our world.  The internet has brought stories to our knowledge that might not have been broadcast on your suppertime world news reports that are only able to include 30 minutes of journalism for both our country and the entire world we all share.

That being said, I reserve my home hours for my "small" world.  Our children and their innocent questions.  Our neighbor and her Baptist ways (please don't ever change, "Grandma!").  My dear husband with eight hours of pent-up "grown-up" conversation, talking to me all evening as if we'd just met.  The occasional call or text from a local relative that I'm free to return at my leisure, even the following day.  If there's any blood in my daily life, then I hope and pray every morning that it's either pondering with a child those with possible green, embracing those discussing Christ's, or just enough to be "fixed" with a magic Band-aid.  ;)

THE TOPPLED PAWN -A PAGE TURNER

   
You may be thinking, why is she writing a book review on a memoir blog? She has two other blogs which seem to be more appropriate for book matters. That is all true but if you read "The Toppled Pawn," you will have a memoir.  A memoir that will bring back pleasant memories of an intriguing story so well written you soon feel apart of it as well as a resident of South Station. The other reason I'm posting in this blog is simple...it gets more "hits."

The reader is drawn immediately into the story with the first sentence, "The man was a peculiar sort." Couple that with the name of the chapter, "The Stranger, " and your intrigue antenna goes up.  The peculiar stranger seems to be watching Joseph Westerfield, one of the players in the finals of the Royal Midwest Chess Club. Or is he watching the chess competition?

This is a fast moving story of mystery, romance, intrigue, sabotage, history and, yes, even humor. The author has given the chapters names that pique your interest and each transitions into the other to keep the pages tuning ahead, not backward to pickup a character or detail forgotten.

History buffs are in for a treat.  Bibliographies are rare in novels. Those readers interested in the history woven into the story will appreciate Mr. O'Brien's research.

The author is a great story teller, as well as a writer.  He understands human nature and every character is well developed.

Most of the story takes place in Michigan but he does add some southern flavor with Charleston, South Carolina.  But why did you have to put the "bad guy" in the "Most Polite City IN the Country?" Oh, I get it!  Who would look for a "Hit Man" there?

Buy and read Robert O'Brien's book.  You will be in for a treat.

Amazon.com, Litchfield Books, Litchfield Beach, SC, River Walk Books, Georgetown, SC

WOULD MAKE A GREAT FATHER'S DAY GIFT.

A TREASURE FROM THE TRUNK

Some years ago I wrote a memoir titled, "Trunk Tales." It was to be a Christmas gift for my children and grandchildren. Just that simple.  I had no idea at would become my best seller.

Here is a quote from the back of the book cover:

"Trunk Tales " is a collection of stories brought to mind by memorabilia found in an old trunk left unopened for over fifty years.  The photographs of family members long gone, receipts for crops, tax bills and the original deed to the old home place brought back memories that need to be preserved for future generations.  The basic facts are true with some embellishment for the readers' interest.  It is with pride and pleasure I share these treasures from the trunk.

There were some treasures that I had forgotten about until my sister presented them in a recent visit. They were quilt squares "pieced" (sewn) by hand many years ago.  Some were in surprisingly bright colors for that time, others in floral prints, on very thin fabric.  There were no two alike.  I suspect that is why they were never made into a quilt top.

My sister, who lives in Southern Maryland, had no trouble finding an Amish lady who knew fabric and threads well.  She studied each piece handling them a if they were made of the finest , the most delicate gossamer fabric.  She was fascinated and determined that they were from the mid 1800s. Looking back in our genealogy charts we have decided that our great-great grandmother Mildred Turner was the one who stitched the majority of them.  The stitching was the same on the majority of squares.  The stitches improved the more she put together.  I can imagine her sitting close to the fire on a winter's evening sewing by the light of a kerosene lamp.  Summer evenings were too busy with farm chores to take time piecing quilt squares.

As an added fact of interest, the thin fabric is why women wore petticoats.

Seventeen Years Later

February 10, 1996-The First Day of a Beautiful Life Together.

A few weeks ago George and I celebrated our seventeenth wedding anniversary. Well, you could call it a celebration but we have yet to have our special dinner together. We made the plans well in advance for a trip to enchanting Charleston.  We chose an historic hotel located in the middle of Charleston's best.  We were even upgraded to a suite when the concierge overheard George say we were celebrating our anniversary. Life was good!  Well, it should have been but a nasty 'bug' decided to take residence in my respiratory system. I tried bio feedback but the bug was too persistent. I gave in and admitted to George that our anniversary celebration had to be put on hold.  I thought he took the news rather well.  He didn't seem a bit disappointed.  And then he admitted  he wasn't feeling well either. Twin bugs!

All was not lost. We managed to see the movie, "Pi" in the comfort of our room.  Oh, I mean suite!  I was scheduled to lead that book in a book club and the movie gave some insight and material for the discussion. I've come to believe in my senior years that any disappointment is never a complete loss..something good can be found if we look hard enough.

So, our seventeenth anniversary is now a memoir...one we will never forget. 


Trinity United Methodist Church, North Myrtle Beach, SC

NOURISHING FRIENDSHIPS, GO ON A SHOPPING TRIP

It had been seventeen years since I  participated in the "Annual Christmas Shop Early and Avoid the Crowds" expedition. It had been our custom years ago to alternate between Lancaster, PA and Williamsburg, VA.  It seems that in the past few years Lancaster has been winning as the place to go.  Over dinner, we began to reminisce about those past trips.  Some had gone on to a better life, while others gave it up to the aches and pains of old age, and others to taking the easy way and sending checks and gift cards to family members.  And that is okay...whatever fits your life style. Maybe the rest of us are the ones with a problem.  At the end of each day I will admit  I wondered why I came.  I have Parkinson's and I tire easily but I trudged on. Since I had not been on this excursion for so long, I would not give in to the controlling Mr. Parkinson. I'll  admit he almost won a few times.

The weather was beautiful,,,,warm for November. It's no fun to shop in the rain or extreme cold....we have done that at times.The coldest I've ever been was in Williamsburg waiting for the "Great Illumination.  I had on all the clothes I brought with me!  We finally were able to get close enough to one of the bonfires to warm up just a little.

Now if it weren't enough to be cold we got lost when we tried to find our car in a  pitch dark parking lot. We were forced to park in the "overflow " which had no lights.  We wandered around for what seemed like an hour but actually was only a few minutes. How grateful we were to be back in the shelter of the car.  We didn't mind so much that it took a long time to wind our way through the traffic and back on the main road to our hotel.

The evenings in our warm, safe rooms were the most enjoyable of the trip.  We donned our night clothes, some modeling purchases  made earlier in the day. There were funny outfits decorated with frogs and Disney characters.  Looks were not the main concern...comfort and warmth were the orders of the day.  Some feet remained half frozen well into the night.

As women are prone to do, we talked and talked and laughed a lot.  After all I had seventeen years to retrieve....some that would never be lived over.. .. too much sadness in some.  We left those alone and emphasized the happy ones.  I sat there listening and looking around the crowded hotel room.  In  years I had missed, children had grown up.  One young lady was expectng her second child.  How could that be?  She was too young for the last trip I was on.  Here my friend and I sit and we are great-grandmothers now.  Tears fill my eyes as I realize life has given us more good times than bad, more joy than sorrow, and a friendship that will last until we are called to our heavenly home.  Who knows...maybe it will continue there!

I think I'll go again next year...I don't want to miss the good times.

Your comments are welcomed.

 

 

 

THE MEMORIES CHRISTMAS BRINGS

Another Christmas has passed, almost.  Epiphany is three days away.  Then all the decorations and the tree will be put away until another year. As I carefully wrap fragile ornaments and recall that this one came from my childhood, memories of Christmases past flood my mind.  The good is mixed with the bad just like that annual can of hard candy--some sweet and others with a funny medicinal taste. Memories from childhood are the sweet ones, most of the time.  I still remember the Christmas I found out the truth about Santa Claus but the "good little girl" in me kept it a secret until a few years back.  My parents never knew.  There are too many memories in my adult years that were the sour ones-the ones you tried to forget but your mind would always keep just enough to remind you of the harsh words, the unwrapped "bought at a yard sale" gift from a vindictive in-law, or worse yet-no gift.  When I think of those insults they pale compared to harsh words from loved ones.  Words cannot be taken back to the store and exchanged.  But then there are the sweet memories--coming across an unbreakable ornament that was bought the Christmas the twins were learning to walk, the homemade sheep, fat with cotton balls made lovingly by a grandchild and the ornament dated 1996, the first Christmas George and I were married.

The sounds of Christmas are memory joggers.  I hear "The First Noel" and I think of all the wonderful choirs I've had the privilege to hear..the many church programs where so much time and love went into the productions.  I remember the butterflies in my stomach before I had to say my "piece" in the Sunday School program.  I can hear my Mom in the kitchen, the whir of the mixer as she mixes the batter for her wonderful baked goods. I hear he stamp of my Dad's boots as he knocks off the snow before bringing that aromatic cedar tree into the living room.  Mom turns off the mixer, grabs a broom to sweep up the trash falling from the tree, chastising my Dad the whole time she is sweeping. Oh, the sounds of Christmas.

Coming from the South, I must mention the food of Christmas.  In my memoir, "Trunk Tales." I wrote a story titled Christmas in the Country. I mention that food takes the center stage.  The women have spent the summer harvesting from their gardens the wonderful foods served at Christmas.  They spent time canning, drying and pickling in order to have these bountiful feasts.  I say feasts because the week after Christmas was spent in gong to a different home every evening for a 'Christmas meal.'  How wonderful was that?  Each hostess varied her menu just enough to make it enticing.  Everyone had their specialities.  To name a few; fruit cake, pound cake, dried apple cake, boiled custard, ambrosia and ham biscuits.  The list goes on and on. Delicious memories!

How can we as grandparents fail to mention the love in our hearts as we spend Christmas with our grandchildren?  They bring us back to the real meaning of Christmas....love. Wasn't the Christ Child a gift of God's love to mankind?  Sometimes we do forget.


Your comments are welcomed.